began as a test of theory. That whatever I discovered just whetted my want for more.
Recently, I was out for drinks with a guy friend who is single and on the prowl for a serious commitment when he asked me why I thought so many married women were using Tinder. If he is to be believed, they both showed up on the app and proudly declared that they were "married" or "in an open marriage." He wondered if they were on the prowl for sexual encounters. Can we assume that they only wanted to flirt? Since he wasn't married himself, he probably saw me as a representative of the tribe, which is not an unreasonable assumption to make. For the most part, I have been happily married for over 15 years and have no idea what a swipe-romance or a point-and-click marriage is. My future spouse and I first connected at a party on a peaceful street in a small town. Having spent a great deal of time contemplating, discussing, and writing about marriage in the years afterwards, I had began to observe an increasing number of women subverting, rethinking, or questioning established assumptions around the institution, particularly with regard to monogamy. Opening marriages was becoming an acceptable and even desirable choice for many modern women. I pondered whether or if Tinder, which made online dating accessible at the tap of a finger, was hastening the trend. The revolutionary effects of applications like Tinder on the single population and the dating scene seemed to be general knowledge. Were they also altering the institution of marriage?
My interest was piqued.
A few days later, I suggested that my husband and I each create an account and give the app a try. I firmly informed him, "No sex." To communicate solely via electronic means. We hadn't been in any kind of dire situation for over a decade and a half. In addition to not having nightly fights, we also weren't sleeping in different rooms. We co-parented our young children and shared a home, political views, and chores. All of us got each other birthday gifts like electric blankets, wool socks, and soup-making Vitamix blenders. That might explain why there didn't seem to be much romance. Perhaps there was little to no excitement, freshness, or enjoyment. We didn't exactly ache for each other or strip down to our underwear for sex, but it didn't mean we didn't love one other. I wasn't what you'd call "happy," per se.
I told Pete, "There was nothing like this when we were single. Isn't it intriguing to consider how the world outside of marriage has evolved? He gave me the same face of equal parts fear and love as if I had suggested we live together, married, or have children. Yes, he said, everything was fine. The answer is obvious: Indeed, that's what we ended up doing.
We started by making profiles for ourselves, which we did together. Unlike the other things we did together (laundry, taxes, birthday parties at inflatable bouncy house sites), this one turned out to be a lot of fun. We chose each other's photographs and riffed on potential descriptions. The simplest descriptions, we agreed, were the most enticing. Pete accompanied the Writer on his journey. Married. Poor at making new acquaintances. Let's grab a pint and debate literature. The simple, Married woman, was the one I choose.
A few of hours after I started the experiment, I had a growing collection of matches. I was inundated with messages, some from creeps but many from gentlemanly suitors. It had been 16 years since guys other than my spouse had looked at me (or at least images of me) and expressed appreciation. It's possible that, as a single woman, I might have rolled my eyes at their voyeuristic behavior. Now I was blushing. It made me remember how drunk I felt after my first beer after nine months of pregnancy. As a result of my monogamous relationship status, I was able to get smashed on the male version of Miller Lite: attention.
In my experience, many Tinder suitors lost interest when I let them know I was already married and was just trying it out. All of the answers were overwhelmingly positive. I can't believe it! there was a single user who tapped that responded. Perfectly correct. Excellent, chimed in a third. That's quite interesting and captivating to me. Fabulous. Courageous. That's incredible. In fact, that's the very solution I've been seeking. That fits well. Wow, you really nailed that pronunciation. So excited to finally meet you! When are you available to get together? 'Goddess, Kim,' one person emailed. To address you as a goddess, may I? Can I call you my owner? Please let me know how I may best meet your needs.
Only a few days had passed, and already men I'd never met were offering to take me out on dates, insult me, make me come over a dozen times, take me to dinner, take me to Paris, and even cook me couscous. After skimming through my matches and messages, I felt like a rare species, despite the fact that I consider myself to be a solid 6 at most and a 7 if I bother to apply mascara. My feelings of being wanted, cherished, and appreciated were intensified. I began to wonder why all the married women in the world weren't using Tinder. Everything had the lighthearted, thrilling, and carefree air that one would expect from a romantic encounter. In the same breath, I could sense how draining it would be to be a single person seeking for a dedicated life partner, someone with whom one could share a home, a career, and a family. The less one expects from men, the more one may appreciate them, I reasoned.
Pete and I were sitting next to one other on the couch one night as I spoke with a man I thought was nice from Berlin. He was only visiting for a week, but he really, really, really wanted to meet me. He said, "I also hope to charm you verbally. A wink face emoji. I'd love to do it if I could. To give you the sexy treatment with their mouths. "(Wink emoticon)" If I can make a woman happy with my mouth, I will. [Nod head emoji] [Nod of approval emoji]
It's like, "Why does he keep winking at me?" My curiosity got the best of me, so I questioned Pete. You wink when you don't want to be too direct, right? To put it bluntly, he's not being coy. I mean, why is he winking at me? Pete gave me the finger and smiled. We then exchanged back-and-forth winks for a good long while. I checked my inbox to see if there were any new messages. One of the guys asked me what I was interested in. Not really, was my reply. My spouse and I have been trying out Tinder, and I'm eager to broaden our horizons. The question is, "What are you interested in?" His reply was, "I prefer to take a lot of booze and heavy drugs and then have sex." It adds a whole new dimension to things. Outside of that, I'm open to pretty much everything. No extreme topics like coprophilia allowed (pooping on each other). Yes, I did say that. Same here; I just don't like for it. The response was, "Great," and he agreed. It seems we'd get along rather well.
When I first started the experiment, I was skeptical that I would find someone I would want to see in person. However, after a few days, I matched with a British man who was also very well-read and kind. For the last year, he had been stationed in a war-torn African country where he served as a consultant for an NGO. We've been exchanging lovely texts, and have had a few of nice chats where we've gotten along really well. In the next day or two, he informed me that he would be in Chicago for a friend's wedding and asked if he might take me out for dinner. I was thinking about it when he asked if I would want to come to his hotel room with him after dinner. And he would love it if I brought a gorgeous married acquaintance. First, I felt repulsed, and then a curious morbidness set in. Only in reading personal essays by other individuals have I come across such an extreme example of masculine entitlement. Were we supposed to take away anything? I warned him that it was unlikely, and he became withdrawn and angry, bombarding me with angry texts. So he begged, which didn't work. Attempts to reach him via phone were made. I work so hard at my job, he vented in an angry text. For 365 days straight, I've been working around the clock to provide for the needs of those who have nothing. When I travel to the United States, all I want to do is have fun and relax with a threesome with two gorgeous married women. Kim, do you really think that's too much to ask? Is it?
I thought about blocking him, but instead opted to try de-escalation because I felt so abruptly and unexpectedly exposed. I got your SMS and I do get it. Trying to put myself in your shoes, I can only image the pressure you're under. I pray that the three of you are soon married. I just don't think we have compatible goals here.
I hung up and waited for a response. I get it, he finally wrote. I appreciate your candor and wish you the best of success on your travels.
After putting the app away, I got in the shower and stayed there for a while. When I eventually went to bed, Pete was already sound asleep. I leaned in and kissed his forehead and closed eyes, thinking of all the ways he had helped me.
Pete, on the other hand, was discovering that married males on Tinder did not receive quite the same degree of positive comments (or abuse) that married women did. Less matches came in, and when Pete reminded the ladies he had matched with that he was married, they didn't react positively. Fuck off, said one user. It's nasty, another person said. He tried to defend himself by saying that his wife had suggested they try out dating apps, but they didn't believe him and made fun of him. The one or two women he had a cordial text interaction with before exposing his status all told him he'd wounded them profoundly, that he was the first educated person they'd met on Tinder in months, and that he was the final straw that made them give up online dating for good.
That's why they detest me, he declared.
I explained to him that they didn't dislike him because of anything personal, but because they sought commitment, resources, and exclusivity from him, none of which he could provide.
Like them, I once yearned for the chance to be wooed, wanted, admired, acknowledged, and seen as a whole person rather than just a wife and mother, and the experience of moving through the world as a sexual being rather than a wife and mother. Maybe married women were now starting to desire what married men have always wanted and had grown to anticipate all along: more.
